The Healer
by staryuwhale
Summary: Dean is looking for someone who can fix his brother's head. Frank Devereaux points him toward a man known as "The Healer". [I wrote this before 7x17 came out, so it's major AU for that episode. All I had to work with was very teasing spoilers. Don't hurt me!] [rated for mild language and violence]


Dean is fidgety. He's stressed. He's beginning to regret every burger he's ever consumed, because he swears his heart is about to burst and he thinks it shouldn't be possible for his blood pressure to be this high. The last thing he needs right now is a heart attack. What would happen to Sammy then? Who would help him? That psychiatric hospital can't do a damn thing for his brother and Dean knows it. If he can't find someone to help, then this is it for Sammy.

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and breathes in, counting to ten. He exhales through his nose and the vein jumping in his neck settles a bit.

What was taking so damn long?

When Dean had contacted Frank, panicked and desperate, Frank had directed him to this healer. _He'd heard good things_, Frank had said. He could tell Dean where to find him, but told him to be prepared for disappointment. As far as he knew, the healer had never taken on a case like Sam's.

_"So, you got a name?" Dean had asked._

_"Nah. In the articles I've read, they always refer to him as 'The Healer'."_

_"Well, alright. Thanks Frank. Really, I -"_

_"Hey don't mention it. Really, don't mention it. I've got work to do, gotta go. Let me know how it goes."_

_"Yeah, all right. Will do."_

Dean pulls out his cell phone to check the time. 9:30pm. He has been waiting here for an hour and a half, and his already worn patience is nearly run out. Apparently the healer works from home. But he's not home now.

Dean's preparing to call in reservations at a motel when a car pulls into the driveway he's been watching. He hastily shoves the phone in his pocket and hurries across the dark street.

"Excuse me!" Dean shouts as the man reaches the steps leading up his porch. The man freezes. "I'm sorry, excuse me. Are you The Healer?" When the man doesn't respond Dean stops walking. "The Healer? Are you him? I- My brother is- not okay. He needs help. I need someone who can help him... Please."

The man remains rigid when he responds. "What ails him?" Dean tenses. That voice is familiar. But it can't be. He mentally shakes himself.

"Hallucinations. They're- incapacitating. He- He sees- terrible things. He doesn't know that they're hallucinations. He doesn't know what's real anymore. They... hurt him. Please. He needs help. He's not your regular headcase, the usual stuff's not going to cut it. So... _please_. If there's anything you can do..."

The Healer seems to deliberate for a moment before speaking. "Yes... possibly. I will need to see him. I can't make any guarantees, but I haven't failed yet."

"Yeah. Right. Of course. Will you come to see him? Or... does he need to be brought to you? How does this work?" Dean hesitates. "And uh... Are you going to let me see who I'm talking to here? You know, shake hands? Introductions, you know?"

"Yes of course." The Healer turns slowly around. When his eyes finally meet Dean's, Dean tenses yet again. He wonders for a moment if his brother isn't the only one suffering hallucinations. Because this just can't be.

But these thoughts vanish quickly when the man extends his hand and says, "Dean Winchester."

"Cas." It's the only thing he can think of. But under the single syllable echoing through his mind, Dean feels emotionally conflicted. The shock gives way to relief, confusion, and anger. More than anything, anger. He doesn't even realize that he has also extended his hand toward the Healer, and that that hand is shaking.

Castiel doesn't seem to be having quite the expected reaction to this unexpected reunion, and it baffles Dean.

"Cas? That's a- an interesting name," the Healer says. "Cas… who?"

Dean gapes for a moment before saying, "Cas… _you_. Castiel."

"I don't understand," Castiel says. "My name is not Castiel. I'm Dean Winchester. Do I… remind you of someone?"

"Oh yeah, you must just have one of those faces," Dean says, weakly sarcastic. As his right hand is fisting at his side, he continues, "_I'm_ Dean Winchester, and _you're_ the son of a bitch that broke my little brother." Dean's fist connected with the Healer's face before confusion had a chance to dawn.

Castiel staggered back into a bush beside the porch stairs. He raised a hand to his swelling nose and split lip before looking up at Dean with horror all over his face. "I don't understand," he repeated weakly.

Dean just stared at him. But his anger seemed to be less intense. Castiel had to strain to hear the words "You don't remember." Dean muttered them, almost to himself.

Castiel swallowed. "I knew you before." His voice rose at the end, like a question. "Before I woke up."

"Yes." Castiel could no longer sense any anger from Dean, but he couldn't sense anything else either. He just kept… _staring_ at him.

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know what I did, but- I'm sorry. I will do everything within my power to fix it- to fix your brother. I'm sorry. I will… redeem myself."

That seemed to move something in Dean. Castiel saw his throat working and his still clenched fist relaxing. He blinked for the first time in what seemed like ages and broke eye contact. He avoided looking at Castiel even as he reached out a helping hand to help him stand up.

Castiel took the proffered hand allowed himself to be pulled up. Dean's hand lingered maybe a little longer than necessary in his own before searching his pockets for something. Dean found it and offered Castiel a small stack of napkins from a fast food restaurant. "For your, uh, lip. And nose." Dean still wouldn't look at him, but he accepted the napkins and began mopping his bloodied face.

Dean was fidgeting now. He continued his pocket search from before, but didn't seem to be searching for anything. Finally he settled on pulling out a set of car keys. "We should get going. If you're gonna work your mojo on Sammy."

Castiel nodded and immediately followed Dean to the car he had parked across the street. Dean paused with his hand on the car door as Castiel circled around to the passenger side. Castiel looked at him questioningly across the roof of the car as he noticed. "What's wrong?" _What a ridiculous question_, Castiel thought.

"Why did you… Why did you say your name was Dea- _my_ name?" Dean was still looking down, avoiding eye contact.

"When I woke up, that was the only name I knew. I assumed it must be mine." Castiel could see Dean's breath catch at that. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No." There was a tension in Dean's shoulders now as he finally raised his eyes to meet Castiel's. "I'm sorry." He looked away again quickly. "You know. About your face."

Dean then opened the car door and disappeared from sight. Castiel tried not to think about the things he must have done to this man to make him so… so _angry_, and joined him in the car for what was sure to be a most… uncomfortable journey.


End file.
